


hold your child as tight as you can

by alsoalsowik



Series: little and broken and good [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Childbirth, F/M, Fatherhood, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, another look into his head, cassian adjusts to being a father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9271325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alsoalsowik/pseuds/alsoalsowik
Summary: No longer an abstract concept, Lyra Erso-Andor is alive, screaming, and incredibly overwhelming.alternatively, Cassian adjusts to fatherhood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sort of a sequel to "holding everything i have like it was broken", but can totally be read as a standalone! i am obsessed with the idea of cassian as a dad (he'd rock those hot dad vibes, right?) and the reverence with which he'd treat his daughter. enjoy, and, as always, comments are so, so appreciated :)

In the quiet moments between missions, gossip works its way through the Alliance. Even the most junior members hear the rumors surrounding Darth Vader -- they say it was the idea of losing his family that drove him to the Emperor. For a split second, as a med droid has to hold him back while a nurse wheels Jyn off, Cassian understands. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, pinches at the bridge of his nose to stop the tears threatening to spill, then takes a steadying breath. Crossing his arms over his chest, Cassian begins pacing. 

It was an easy pregnancy, in hindsight. Other than some scrapes -- having everything to do with Jyn’s ambition and nothing to do with the baby -- she had no problems. Jyn went out on missions until the thirty week mark, at which point Cassian had to enlist  _Mon Mothma_  to make his wife slow down. With reluctance, she agreed to do her part from the Hoth base.

Here they are, eight weeks later: Cassian refusing to stand still in the med bay, Jyn -- having lost a  _lot_ of blood -- being wheeled away for  _something_  life-saving, and their baby, howling while a soft-spoken droid takes her measurements. Their  _daughter_. 

No longer an abstract concept, Lyra Erso-Andor is alive, screaming, and incredibly overwhelming. 

A hand on his arm slows Cassian to a halt. “Captain Andor?”

“Yes?” he answers, dread balling in the pit of his stomach. What if it’s Jyn? what if she’s not going to -- ?

“Your daughter,” the droid says, offering him a wriggling, mewling bundle. The blankets here on Hoth are thick and worn, so Cassian can just make out a tiny face. His  _daughter’s_  tiny face. 

“Oh. Of course,” Cassian says, voice catching when he’s handed the mess of blankets. The room spins; he needs to sit down. He’s anchored to the floor, but the air seems thinner.  _Support the head_ , he thinks, wanting a glass of water. Someone -- he doesn’t see who; his eyes are trained on the newborn’s rapidly opening and closing mouth -- leads him to a chair. The backs of his knees bump into it and, by instinct, he clutches Lyra tight to his chest.

Her face screws up and Cassian feels prickling shards of terror take root at the base of his skull. When Lyra lets out a desperate wail, his heart shatters into more pieces than he ever thought possible. The warm weight of a baby feels foreign in the arms of a spy, but it’s that same training that has him quieting her before she can inhale again. Cassian never wants to set her down. 

Once Lyra’s reasonably calm, blinking rapidly at the bright white of the Hoth base, he gets a proper look at her. She’s pink from the ordeal of being born, but he can tell that, underneath that, she’s got his coloring. The realization that his daughter looks at least a little like him has hot tears springing to Cassian’s eyes. 

Every time he dared to imagine what their baby would look like, she turned out a carbon-copy of Jyn, all pale skin and green eyes. Cassian  _hopes_  the pale blue of Lyra’s eyes will turn the rich green of her mother’s in time, but her skin and hair are undeniably  _Andor._ With no remaining family, Cassian always thought the look of his people would die with him. It won’t. His daughter will carry his own skin forever.

He will always be with her, even when he can’t be.

After what seems like an eternity of staring at his tiny baby daughter, a nurse -- the same one from before? -- enters the room from those heavy metal doors Cassian tried to fight his way through earlier. “Captain, I can take you to see your wife,” she says.

His heart stops. “Yes, thank you,” he answers, the words running together in his haste to get them out. The nurse offers to hold Lyra while he stands and Cassian shakes his head. Her breathing is slow and even in sleep; he follows the nurse carefully so as not to wake his daughter. 

Jyn is in a small room down the hallway, guarded by a keypad. The nurse enters a few digits, the door slides open, and Cassian can breathe deep again. 

She looks paler than she was earlier this morning, with an IV in her left arm and dark circles under her eyes. Cassian decides she’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen -- save, maybe, the baby in his arms. 

“Is she -- ?” Jyn starts, struggling to sit up in her cot, eyes going straight to Lyra and missing him entirely. 

“She is fine,” Cassian says, moving to stand by Jyn’s side. “Perfect,” he corrects. “Would you like to...?”

Cassian looks down at his wife, takes in her wide eyes and pursed lips, and sighs, “If I can do this, so can you,” he offers as encouragement. Jyn nods, finally meeting his eyes. She breaks into a shaky smile, eyes watering. Cassian gently sets Lyra on Jyn’s chest, then pulls a chair up to watch his wife and daughter be reacquainted. 

Scratch what he thought earlier -- this, Jyn holding the life they both helped to create, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“She looks like you,” Jyn notes. Cassian laughs, soft and light. 

“She will grow out of that, I hope,” he replies, only half-joking. 

Once they’ve got Lyra situated at Jyn’s breast so she can eat, Jyn asks the question he’s been dreading all day. Well, when he’s had the time to think about its answer, that is. 

“When do you leave again?”

“They are giving me,” Cassian starts, wishing for better news, “two days. Then I should be gone a week, if all goes smoothly.”

“Two days,” Jyn repeats, voice tired. For a long minute, Lyra’s suckling noises are all they hear. He nods, solemnly. He’d spoken to Kes Dameron about the separation factor briefly; it’s something he and, eventually, Jyn will just have to get used to. 

“Well,” she begins, voice cutting through the swirl of thought in Cassian’s head, “you come home to me. To  _us_.” 

“Always,  _mi sol y estrellas_.”

After they get Lyra burped and rocked back to sleep, Jyn hands her to Cassian. “I know how much a girl needs her father,” she says, emotion coloring her normally-steady voice. “Be here with her while you can. It’ll give me a chance to sleep,” Jyn adds, fighting a yawn. 

Cassian nods. “I will be here when you wake. We both will.”

Sitting beside his dosing wife, holding their sleeping newborn, Cassian almost forgets who they are. For a moment, they are a normal family, looking forward to spending their future  _together_. For a moment, the fight is gone. 

Then he remembers Darth Vader, afraid, turning to evil instead of doing something about that fear. He knows then that the fight will never be over. 

**Author's Note:**

> join me in my obsessions over rebelcaptain and diego luna's face on tumblr (baenakinskywalker)!


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